Year B Proper 26 Ruth 1:1-8 Mark 12:28-34

In the days when the judges ruled, there was a famine in the land, and a certain man of Bethlehem in Judah [Elimelech] went to live in the country of Moab, he and his wife and two sons... They went into the country of Moab and remained there. But Elimelech, the husband of Naomi, died, and she was left with her two sons. These took Moabite wives….

Things sound good for Naomi. Though she is now a widow, she has borne two sons, now grown to adulthood, whose marriages insure she will have a place to live, food on the table, and grandchildren to love and cherish in her old age. It is what every woman in her time looked forward to. But then tragedy strikes.

When they had lived there about ten years, both [sons,] Mahlon and Chilion, also died, so that the woman [Naomi] was left without her two sons and her husband.

This is a terrible fate for Naomi, and also for her two daughters-in-law if they remain with her. For a woman in ancient times, to be without a husband and without sons to look after her and support her meant that, unless she was extremely rich, her old age would be a nightmare. Widows without sons could be reduced to living the lives of beggars, no home to go to, no roof over their head, wandering the streets in rags. And so we have this poignant scene. Naomi knows her future is bleak, but she loves her daughters-in-law, who by marriage are now her own daughters, and she doesn’t want their lives to be ruined. So, Naomi said to her two daughters-in-law, "Go back each of you to your mother's house.” This is a sacrifice of love, to tell the two women, who might provide for her some sort of support as she ages, to leave her and to return to their home. Naomi hopes they will find new husbands, have children, especially sons, and thus insure security and comfort when they too grow old. She is putting their welfare ahead of her own. If we were the daughters, we would, with regret, certainly take her up on her offer. We live in an age where being practical and looking at all the sensible possibilities is most important. We often are counselled to, “not let your feelings get in the way” when decisions must be made. The daughters-in-law know what fate awaits Naomi if they leave her, but still, in the end, they wept aloud ,,,,. Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her. What follows is the beautiful statement of love from Ruth which reads:

Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

We are touched by this poetry, and we applaud Ruth, for her love, and her steadfastness. Like Naomi, she is putting her mother-in-law’s welfare before her own. But what we don’t realize, as we read Ruth’s story, is why it appears in our Bible. Where did it come from? Why is it there?

The story of Ruth, like that of Esther, which we heard earlier this summer, is prompted by something that is happening with the Children of Israel at the time the stories were first recounted. They have returned from exile, and now they have time to look back on the terrible experience, and wonder how and why it happened. They, as we might, want explanations, and they want someone to blame.

The Bible tells us that the exile was a punishment for idolatry and disobedience to God. This indicates a failure on the part of the priests, who were not at all happy to have accusing eyes looking in their direction. We know what happens when the finger of blame is pointed at us. We quickly think of some other explanation for whatever failure or disaster has been laid on our doorstep. Sometimes we even convince ourselves that we are not at fault, even when we are, and accept our own version of the story.

We can imagine what goes through the minds of the priests. They are the priestly caste, they embody the spirituality of the people, they are the clergy, the religious leaders – they cannot be to blame. With these thoughts to spur them on, they quickly come up with an explanation that suits them. The reason for the Babylonian exile was intermarriage. And thus, we have the stories of Esther, a Jew wo married a non-Jew, and became his queen, and Ruth, a non-Jew who married into a Jewish family.

What happens to these two women? Esther, because she is alert and aware of what is happening around her, and because of her status as queen, saves the Jewish people from genocide. And Ruth? What becomes of her? She does remarry, another Jewish man, and has children. And from her son comes a great king. She is the grandmother of King David.

What does all this tell us? That clearly there is a huge difference between the logic we so prize, the sensible, rational way we encourage others to address life’s situations, and the way that love handles things. The world, our society, encourages us to not let our feelings guide us, but love is more than just a feeling, more than a state of mind. Love is a condition of the soul, an action of surrender of the will to God.

Do we find this way of thinking foolish? Do we doubt that in every instance love needs to overrule what we consider to be logical?

One of the scribes came near and heard the Saducees disputing with one another, and seeing that Jesus answered them well, he asked Him, “Which commandment is the first of all?”

The Gospel of Mark, from which our reading comes today, was written after the destruction of the Temple. There are many questions being raised by Jews of the time, and thus, the one Jesus is asked contains a second meaning, one that would have deeply concerned the hearers of Mark’s words. “What is essential to Jewish identity?”

Mark makes the theological judgment that while the temple and sacrifice may have played an important role in Judaism in an earlier time, those things are no longer essential to Jewish identity. Indeed, with the temple destroyed, the community can no longer participate in burnt offering and sacrifice. What then is left? How does one define oneself as a Jew?

Again, the people are searching for a sensible and concrete answer. It’s what we do. When we wish to define ourselves, we look for slogans, banners, uniforms, something that makes a clear outward statement of our identity. And Jesus answers:

“The first is, ‘Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

One of the great mistakes we make in our lives is to define ourselves by worldly standards. Ask a young person what they want to be, and along with various job titles they will tell you they would like to be rich, famous, respected, and successful. What they are encouraged to believe is that what must underlie these desires is a quick mind and a strong will. What no one ever says is that they want to be kind, generous, loving, and forgiving. While these may underlie their worldly ambitions, they are never stated, except by the very few, as life goals.

Jesus Himself, and all the saints, have told us that no matter what we do or what we accomplish, be it great or small in worldly terms, God sees only the love we put into our work, and give out in our lives. In the hymn we sing the words, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love”. Do we know what that means? Think about your goals, things done and left undone. What did you want to accomplish when you began? What are your hopes and dreams now?

Jesus has told us what they need to be for us to be holy people, for us to be His friends. Though it may require of us sacrifice, discomfort, and change, when we can say we place love above all things, then we can be assured, as Jesus assured the scribe:

“You are not far from the kingdom of God.”

Let us pray – in a prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi:

Lord, make us instruments of your peace. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Grant that we may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.